


Never Press a Courting Ferret

by HeroMaggie



Series: Ser Chompy brings people together [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: AU...or couldn't you tell?, Fenris has a minor stealing problem, Ferret!Fenris, Fluff and Smut, Hawke has a big mouth, Isabela and Varric are incapable of being discreet, Justice is disgruntled, Kissing, M/M, Merrill doesn't approve of gossip, Which he uses for good, blow-jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4468715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders and Fenris have come to an understanding and are courting - happily. </p>
<p>But Hawke saw them cuddling on the Wounded Coast and ends up blabbing about it...leading to teasing and some ferret-style pay-back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Press a Courting Ferret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BoxOnTheNile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxOnTheNile/gifts).



> For BoxOnTheNile - Happy Birthday! 
> 
> Also - Fenris swears he can stop the shiny item stealing - he can. Swears it.

“It was the craziest thing, I swear,” Hawke said in between long swallows of ale. “I peek in the tent and there they were, all...smooshed together…” Hawke pressed his hands together and looked wide-eyed. “I mean, don’t they normally bicker? I thought the cuddling in the clinic was odd but this...I...have no idea....”

“Smooshed?” Isabela leaned forward, her generous bosom pressing against the table. “Was there...naked skin?”

“I saw naked chests. I...I was just so flustered…” Hawke took another swallow of ale.

“I don’t think they would like you talking about it,” Merrill said for the upteenth time. “I’m happy for them. They need each other.”

“Oh Kitten, we won’t hound them,” Isabela said, winking at Varric.

“Daisy, it’s fine. We’re just letting Hawke talk. Right Hawke? This isn’t gossip. Gossip is wrong,” Varric patted at Merrill’s hand. The little elf wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes at Hawke.

“If you upset them I will be very upset with you,” She said, her eyes going big. “You don’t want that, right?”

“Oh love, it’ll be fine. Isabela and Varric can be discreet,” He stopped talking and thought about that statement. “Well, you two will be discreet, right?”

“Swear on the Maker,” Varric said, Isabela nodding in agreement. “Discreet - that’s our middle name.”

Merrill sighed and sipped at her ale, not believing any of them.

***

 “Do you think Hawke saw us?” Anders asked Fenris as they headed to the Hanged Man. “Out on the coast...do you think he saw us?”

“I could not say, mage,” Fenris was far too busy enjoying the feeling of Anders’ hand in his to care what their half-wit friend had or had not seen. “If he had, I imagine we would have heard from him by now. Hawke is rather...chatty.”

“See, that’s what worries me. What if he’s been chatty with people other than us,” Anders squeaked a bit as Fenris tugged him into the alley next to the tavern. “Fenris…”

“A moment, mage,” Fenris huffed out, pushing the taller man against the dirty wall and crowding into his space. “I find that I require this.”

“This?” Was all Anders got out before Fenris’ lips were on his. The kiss was a little sloppy, a little slobbery, and absolutely perfect. Anders moaned softly and clutched at Fenris, the elf growling under his breath as the kiss broke.

“Mine,” was all he whispered.

“Bugger Wicked Grace,” Anders swore and tried to pull Fenris into another kiss. “Knickerweasles,” he groused when Fenris pulled back.

“Patience,” Fenris smiled, stroking his mage’s cheek.

“Well now I need to go home and fix some problems,” Anders grumbled.

“Mage,” Fenris laughed. “I am still getting used to this. Allow me some time. Your patience will be rewarded.”

Anders perked up a bit and gave a sheepish laugh, “Hard to be patient when you kiss me like that. But alright.”

“You will return home with me tonight. I wish to cuddle,” Fenris declared, pulling Anders from the alley, a grin on his face. “And perhaps steal more of your feathers.”

“You have a problem,” Anders said with much eye-rolling. “At this rate you’ll have refeathered my coat due to your little stealing issues.”

Fenris couldn’t help but smile wider at the thought of the soft nest of feathers he had made under his bed. When he couldn’t sleep with the mage, he slept in the feathers - soothed by the smells from the hair ties, feathers, and bandages he had nicked and stored away. Anders didn’t need to know that - yet. Eventually, Fenris supposed. Though if he could get the mage to sleep with him every night he wouldn’t need his little feather nest…

Fenris’ feather thoughts carried him through the main room of the Hanged Man and up the stairs to Varric’s rooms. He released Anders’ hand before they went through the open door, not wishing to draw his friends’ attention to the relationship he and the mage were forging. He supposed showing up with Anders was a bit out of the ordinary but hoped everybody just assumed that they had come in at the same time.

Sadly, the gleam in Isabela’s eyes told him all he needed to know. Hawke must have seen something and blabbed. The man was a wonderful friend - kind, generous to a fault, supportive, and always there with a shoulder. But he was also a bit of a blabber mouth, and Fenris feared he had blabbed to the wrong people.

“Well, well, well,” Isabela drawled. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“There’s a cat?” Merrill looked around, stopping when Isabela started laughing. “Oh, that’s another one of your sayings, yes?”

“Love, you are so adorable,” Hawke beamed, scooping Merrill up and cuddling her. “I just love you.”

“I never know what’s going on,” Merrill lamented even as she cuddled Hawke. “Oh! Anders and Fenris. Hello!”

“Merrill, everyone,” Anders murmured, taking a seat. Fenris gave the table a half-hearted nod and then sat down - next to Anders.

Isabela glanced at Varric and then went back to shuffling the cards.

“Fenris, have you had problems with a burglar recently?” Aveline put her cup down and glanced at the elf. “I’ve had a few complaints from your corner of Hightown about missing items. Nothing big - just little things. Trinkets.”

“Nobody would burgle me,” Fenris deadpanned, thinking of how he’d taken to nicking a few items from his annoying neighbors. Nothing big - a snuff box here, a small shiny bauble there. Really, he could stop at any time...or...Ser Chompy could. Who was he kidding.

Aveline thought about his statement and had to agree, “I don’t know why I asked. You keep dead bodies in your mansion.”

“Not my mansion,” He stressed.

“Right,” Aveline sighed.

“So Blondie, how’s it going?” Varric was watching Anders raise his eyebrows at Fenris, who seemed to flush under the look being given to him by the healer. Anders blinked down at Varric who grinned. “You ok? You and Broody there seem to be preoccupied.”

“Oh, I’m fine. It was busy today, as usual,” Anders fought off the urge to glance at Fenris again. He felt like he should talk to the elf about his ferret issues - namely the nicking of small, shiny objects. Justice was mildly disturbed by the entire situation and kept muttering in the back of Anders’ mind - something about Sigrun and how stealing was stealing no matter if the object was returned.

It was too hard to pay attention to one disgruntled fade spirit and a dwarf who looked like he had discovered a large vein of untapped lyrium.

“You sure you’re ok? And I gotta ask - are those new feathers?” Varric pointed at Anders’ shoulders.

“Ah...just...replacing the ones that fall out,” Anders coughed a bit. “I, ah, Fenris...want anything to drink?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Isabela perked up and leaned forward at that, eyes wide. “Yes Fenris, anything the possessed apostate mage can get for you? How wonderful that you two are getting along well enough to court!”

“Court?” both Fenris and Anders said the word at the same time.

“Mm, Hawke was right. You two are up to something,” Isabela crowed.

“You promised to not upset them,” Merrill said primly.

“I’m not. I’m just...excited. So Anders, what does Fenris have under those leggings? I keep asking him what color his smalls are and he never answers me. Do those lyrium lines go everywhere? You know...everywhere? And Fenris, has Anders tried out his electricity trick on you yet because if not you are missing out,” Isabela was looking at the two of them with big, bright eyes.

“Ah…” Anders exhaled.

“We are not discussing anything having to do with my person and the mage. We are most definitely not discussing what is or is not under my clothing.” Fenris looked mildly outraged.

“Hawke!” Anders frowned at his friend. “Have you been talking?”

“No! Well...maybe. Just a little. I mean, alright. I saw you two...at the coast and…” Hawke waved his hands around. “And I’m very happy if you two are happy…”

“I told you,” Anders groused.

“Does all the pent-up aggression lead to other types of aggression?” Isabela was still on a roll. “Oh! What about the nickname Little Wolf…”

“Sweet Maker,” Sebastian threw his hands in the air. “Must you?”

“Yes. Must you?” Aveline was frowning down at Isabela.

“All I need to know is - is this a love story I’m writing or a tangled web of angst and hate sex?” Varric asked, pen at the ready.

Fenris let out a growl and stood. “Mage, we are leaving.”

“Right,” Anders stood, finding himself being pulled from Varric’s rooms. “You all are horrible” He called as he was rushed down the stairs.

Merrill turned to Hawke and stood up. “I’m going to my home tonight.”

“Oh...Merrill...I didn’t mean to…” Hawke pleaded.

Merrill simply sniffed and stalked from the room, causing Hawke to turn very upset eyes on Isabela and Varric.

“What? I was just asking some questions.” Isabela said, holding up her hands.

“They’ll calm down,” Varric said, tapping his fingers on the table while trying not to wince. “I think. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought up the story so soon.”

“Maybe Hawke should learn to keep his mouth shut,” Aveline grumbled.

“Do you think I should go and grovel at Merrill now or tomorrow?” Hawke slumped in his chair. Isabela handed him his cards and he looked at them, noting the decent hand. “Tomorrow,” he said finally, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to let her calm down.

***

Two days after Wicked Grace and Fenris found Anders in his clinic laughing at something Merrill had just said. The two mages were perched on cots, giggling, and looking for all the world like best friends - which was interesting since there was usually a thin veneer of tension between the two of them. But there they were, sharing a laugh and what appeared to be some bread.

“Fenris!” Merrill turned and offered him a wide smile. “How are you, Lethallin?”

“Witch, Mage,” Fenris said in greeting, mildly surprised to realize he had said “witch” in a friendly manner. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh well, I came down to apologize to Anders for Hawke and we ended up talking and...well...he had a patient and then some bread…” Merrill grinned. “And then I started telling him about my clan and the problems lovers got into.”

Anders chuckled, “We should be happy we’re not Dalish. No privacy there.”

Fenris gave an amused half-smile. “I can imagine. Not a lot of privacy in those carts.”

“Aravels,” Merrill corrected gently. “And the Keeper would have to go have talks with some of the louder...ah…” her ears pinked while Anders burst out into more laughter.

“Like a horrid mother hen. Maker, the mental image. It must have been terrifying. Like getting caught by one of the Enchanters in the herb closet...not that...ah…” now it was Anders’ turn to look sheepish as Merrill giggled.

“Mage,” Fenris shook his head and took a seat next to Anders. “I have brought you a gift.”

“You...have?” Anders blinked owlishly at Fenris.

“Oh! I’ll take my leave then,” Merrill chirped, hopping up. “I...I want you both to know I’m so happy for you.”

“Ahh...thank you?” Anders flushed under Merrill’s enthusiasm

“I told Hawke to shut up but...you know Hawke. I know I appear stupid and oblivious but I’m really not. Hawke isn’t stupid but he...he means well.” She frowned a bit. “I suppose I should tell him I forgive him.”

Fenris gave a raspy chuckle, “You have been punishing him? For the teasing we received?”

“I told them all to behave and they ignored me. I have kept busy with my...projects,” Merrill kept the mirror to herself, not wishing to ruin the good mood in the room. She watched with some amazement as Fenris frowned slightly and then offered her another half-smile. “I suppose I shall forgive them now. They were just being themselves. I cannot fault their nature, just that they were so rude.”

“Why does it matter so much?” Fenris wondered aloud.

“Because we’re clan, lethallin. Family,” Merrill gave a shy smile. “See you tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it Merrill. Remember. Right when you leave my clinic, second door on the wall. That’s Hawke’s door,” Anders stood. “Better yet, let me walk you. Be right back, Fen.”

Fenris watched Anders press a hand to Merrill’s back and lead her from the clinic, his laugh filtering back to the elf. The happiness looked good on the mage, Fenris decided. And even though the witch was a blood mage, she was generous and kind to his mage and that meant something to Fenris.

“And back. She’s a rather funny little thing when not slicing her hands. I told her to maybe switch to her arm...hands are important.” Anders shrugged sheepishly. “Justice says she doesn’t smell corrupt...which is weird.”

“Your...spirit...can tell?” Fenris shifted, mildly uncomfortable but interested all the same.

“When she casts, he can taste the fade energies she pulls.” Anders said while rubbing the back of his neck. “Like he can hear your lyrium sing when you use your abilities.”

“Interesting,” Fenris muttered, pushing the entire idea to the side in favor of patting the cot and giving Anders puppy eyes. “I have a gift, mage.”

“I do like gifts,” Anders said as he settled next to Fenris.

“I saw that you used to wear an earring and I...ah…” Fenris fumbled a bit, patting at a pouch and pulling out a small gold hoop. “I got this for you. To wear. From me.”

“Oo!” Anders fairly preened at the earring. “I had to sell mine for money. Let me just...yes...good…” his hands warmed as he sterilized the earring and then held it to the nearly closed hole, pushing it through with one, sure thrust while casting a light healing spell. “There.”

Fenris tilted his head, “It suits you, mage.”

“Thank you!” Anders patted at the earring, marveling at how just that little bit of weight made him feel different - more carefree, more...Anders. More like himself. Justice sat in the back of his mind and squirmed slightly - he remembered Anders with the earring, too, and while selling it had been for a just cause, the gift made the spirit feel a little...happy.

Fenris gave Anders a very pleased look and then pulled the mage closer and down into a kiss. Anders hummed happily as he parted his lips, deepened the kiss, and let Fenris push him back on the cot. There was some wiggling and then Fenris’ breastplate clattered to the floor, the elf pressing tightly against his mage to nibble and lick at his neck.

“Door,” Anders whispered. “Should close and lock it.”

“I shall.” Fenris sat up, gazing at Anders. “I...wish...if you would like…”

“I’ll go back to my bed and undress?” Anders stood and smiled, backing towards his curtain. Fenris nodded, face solemn and eyes heated, and then went to close and lock the clinic doors.

He found Anders on his bed naked - long, lean body stretched out for him, and Fenris couldn’t seem to divest himself of his clothing fast enough. The earring gleamed against Anders’ pale skin and the first thing Fenris did once he was undressed was to bit down gently and tug, drawing a surprised gasp from Anders.

“I...it has been a while for me, Anders,” Fenris admitted while nuzzling against the mage’s neck. “I do not know…”

Anders grinned and rolled them, pressing his forehead to Fenris’. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Trust me?”

“Always, mage. Always.” Fenris whispered back and let Anders kiss him.

One kiss… then two...then lips trailing down his long neck, teeth nipping lightly at his collarbone, the sweep of tongue down the center of his chest. Anders covered in him kisses: soft ones, nipping ones, playful ones...sucking, biting, bruising ones that left Fenris squirming and Anders giggling. Kisses from lips to hips, where Anders scraped teeth over hip bones and nuzzled at Fenris’ strong stomach before glancing up and waiting for Fenris to nod, to part his legs - licking up the crease and smiling at the sharp inhale...humming at the taste as he dragged his tongue up Fenris’ thick cock to lap at the broad head.

“Anders,” Fenris gasped as the mage wrapped his lips around his cock and sucked, took him as deep as possible, tasted and nibbled until Fenris’ toes were curling and he was fighting to not thrust into the mage’s mouth.

His orgasm boiled up suddenly, making him shout and grab at Anders’ hair, eyes closed as the pleasure crested in a wave. Anders gave a moan of his own, shivering as he came in his hand, swallowing what he could of Fenris, sucking until the elf had gone soft.

He lay there, head pillowed on one strong thigh, and quivered as he came down from the high. Smiled when he felt fingers smooth his hair. “Anders,” his name had his eyes meeting Fenris’. “Come here.”

Wiggling up the bed, Anders settled against his elf and sighed, relaxed. “That was so good,” he murmured.

“I believe I should be the one saying those words,” Fenris rolled over to nuzzle against Anders’ chest. “You are very giving.”

“I love pleasuring my lovers,” Anders watched Fenris’ head pop up, “Only lover now is you Fenris, I swear it.”

“You had better,” the elf grumbled a bit before perking up. “I, ah, have one more gift.”

“Another one?” Anders shook his head. “You aren’t nicking from your neighbors to give me things are you?”

“No, I returned most of what I took. It was merely a game, mage. The family next to me was beating their servant girl. I stole some things before I could think better of it.” Fenris mumbled, nose twitching a little.

“Beating her?” Anders’ skin flushed with blue as Justice prowled in his mind. “Unjust,” he muttered in a deeper tone.

“I returned the items and then...ah…” Fenris looked sheepish.

Anders cocked his head, Justice still too much in his mind to speak normally.

“I may have chewed holes in their fancy underthings,” Fenris looked downright contrite.

There was a pause and then Anders was giggling maniacally. “Oh sweet Maker. That’s...haha. Fenris!”

“Silky things,” Fenris felt his nose twitch again and shook it off. “Let me get the gift.”

He stood and went to his clothing, grabbing his pouch and rummaging in it before pulling out a simple pen with a lovely new nib on it. “I did not purchase ink. I do not know much about it and there were too many types.”

“Ooo...I do wear down my nibs quickly,” Anders beamed at Fenris. “Thank you!”

“I hope you use it for good,” Was Fenris’ cryptic response before he crawled back into bed and started kissing Anders. The strange words drifted away under the press of warm elf, Anders’ mind happily centered on the feeling of being held and kissed.

***

This time when Anders and Fenris entered Varric’s rooms, they kept their fingers entwined - releasing them only long enough for Fenris to pull out a chair for Anders. The group watched with interest as Anders sat and then beamed up at the elf.

“Thank you, Fenris,” Anders ignored the group in favor of watching Fenris move.

“Are we playing Wicked Grace or catching spiders?” Fenris asked, eyes taking in the gaping faces.

“Wicked Grace,” Aveline spoke up before Isabela could say anything.

“I’m glad to see you both, “Merrill said happily, perched on Hawke’s knee. Hawke gave them both a sheepish smile, wincing as Merrill turned to look at him. “Ma vhenan, don’t you have something to say?”

“Ah...Fenris, Anders...I am sorry I gossiped about you two. Please forgive me.” Hawke looked like a whipped pup. If he had had a tail it would have been tucked between his legs.

Anders choked back a laugh, “Forgiven.”

“See that it does not happen again,” Fenris said smoothly.

“So,” Varric said into the brief quiet. “You catch a break on those burglars, Aveline?”

“Strangest thing, the items were returned unharmed. But every item of underclothing had holes chewed in it. I told them they had mice and to find a good rat catcher,” Aveline said with a shrug. “Why?”

“Darndest thing. I had just bought a new nib for my pen. Fancy little thing, too. Was going to use to write my juicy...er…” Varric’s eyes met Fenris’ and the dwarf swallowed a bit, “Was going to use it for work. It’s missing. Nobody here steals from me.”

“I had somebody in my stuff too!” Isabela spoke up. “An earring was gone and something or somebody stole the buttons from my favorite tunic.”

“Varric, I’ll see what I can find. But a pen nib just isn’t big news. And you…” Aveline narrowed her eyes on Isabela. “I’m surprised it was just an earring and some buttons missing.”

While Isabela and Aveline began to trade barbs, Anders gently touched a finger to the gold earring in his ear that the group had yet to notice. He reached down and squeezed Fenris’ thigh, the elf turning placid eyes up to meet his amused one. Anders arched an eyebrow, as if asking a question.

“They must have weasels,” Fenris said nonchalantly, a small smile quirking up his lips. “Never know when one will nick something shiny.”

The group stopped talking, too astonished by the the sight of Anders howling with laughter and Fenris chuffing softly, the word weasel being the only thing they could understand out of either of them.


End file.
